Shiloh Peters, the Half-Blood Princess
by Lyricalyrics
Summary: Shiloh is the only one of her kind. Okay, that sounds racist. No, Shiloh was probably the only girl in the world to have Zeus as her father and an American writer as a mother. Not only that, she now has TWO wars to fight. And only two months ago, her mother died. She also thinks she's having Schizophrenia. If Shiloh was a recipe for disaster, she thinks somebody's cooked her up.


"_Mommy?"_

_Six-year-old Shiloh Peters stood in the threshold, blinking back burning tears. She couldn't sleep. The monsters would come out to play, even in her dreams. She didn't want that. Her mother sat up in her bed, running a hand through her dark, disheveled hair so much like Shiloh's, and tried to give her a smile._

"_Come here, sweetie," She said in that awesome slightly British accent that Shiloh had come to love. Everyone accepted the fact that Ms. Peters was just a gorgeous British model stuck in a American writer's body. Shiloh practically lunged onto the bed, snuggling into her mother's side._

"_Did you see the monsters again?" She cooed softly. Shiloh burst into tears. They were horrible. Her nightmares included: Phoenixes with the heads of Death Eaters, Death Eaters with the bodies of Cyclopes, and Stymphilian Birds with glowing red eyes that reminded Shiloh so much of You-Know-Who._

"_It's okay, shh, Mommy's here," She crooned, and she softly sang a lullaby to calm Shiloh's nerves. A few minutes later, and deep snores emerged from the little girl's nose._

"Shiloh?" Hermione asked. Shiloh opened her eyes- her eyes were closed? When did _that _happen?- and groaned when she took in her surroundings. She was in the library. There was some freaking potion essay they had to do for Potions class, and Shiloh decided to go down memory lane once more. It wasn't her fault, though. The memories just… came at her. And it was just her luck that she had those memories _right _after her mom only died, just two months ago. She was a year-rounder at Camp Half-Blood- except, of course, when she went to Hogwarts in September.

A rare half-blood from _both _sides, Shiloh's dad was Zeus- God of the Skies, Gods, and everything oddly powerful, Shiloh used to joke. Monsters from both sides found her, and whenever she was with her mom, they had to move from country-to-country because of the beasts that used to track them down. So far, they'd been in New York, California, Maine, Virginia, Minnesota, Vermont, Pennsylvania, and Shiloh's personal favorite, Florida.

Sure, the humidity was unbearable, but the swamps were _so cool. _She'd stumbled upon alligators more than once, anyways. And she thought that cage diving with the crocodiles were positively awesome. She was a daredevil like that- she suspected she got that from her mom.

_Mom, _she thought. For a moment, her heart stopped beating when the sharp, beautiful features of her dead mother's face blared in her mind. And for a second, she considered the consequences if she screamed at the top of her lungs, like some kind of freaking insane asylum patient.

"Shiloh?" Ron nudged her ribs, and instantly she had his arm twisted behind his back. He made a choking sound and backed away from her.

"W-What was that for?" He stuttered. Shiloh's fierce, bluish gray gaze landed on his face. He would never admit it, but Shiloh made him nervous. She was always tensed up, like expecting someone to attack her at any second. And, given their case, it was true, but it happened _before _the war had started. But now, especially that her mom died only two months before, she was constantly on edge. Plus, there was her American accent. Not to be racist, but it was just so… _American. _No clipped vowels, only pronounced _R_s and short _O_s.

"For being such a jackass, that's why."

"I didn't even say anything to you!" He protested- in a hushed hiss, because Madame Pince was glaring at them from across the library.

"You don't have to. I know what you're thinking." She scowled, and turned away from him. Another inherited trait: being able to intimidate people just by glancing at them, and she actually found it pretty useful these days.

Harry looked up from where he was anxiously fiddling with his quill.

"We'll continue this tomorrow," He yawned loudly, making Madame Pince angrily shush him and jab him with her quill. Hermione glared at him.

"It's _due _tomorrow," She said. Harry groaned and put his head down on the desk. Shiloh smirked slightly and got up from her chair.

"Whatever, Snape'll go easy on me." She grinned. And it was true. Anytime he was near her, he'd have this look on his face like he was- what- afraid? Snape was a _lot _of things, but never really afraid.

"That doesn't give you the right to skip homework, Shi!" Hermione looked horrified at the suggestion of not doing homework. Shiloh grinned even wider and turned away, doodling on her hand. The names _Jason _and _Thalia _were scrawled on her palm, and two pairs of fierce eyes- quite like her own- was doodled against her knuckles.

"Who're they?" Harry asked, peering at the names. Shiloh instantly glared at him and stuffed her hand in her pocket. After a long silence, she finally muttered something under her breath.

"They're my half-siblings. We come from the same dad. Happy?" Without waiting for an answer, she stormed out of the library and made her way up to the girls' dormitories. Hermione, Ron, and Harry all exchanged looks.

When her mom was still alive, she was this wise-cracking girl who made jokes 24/7. But, over the summer, she was… different. Sarcastic comments flew from her mouth daily, and she would scowl more often. During a particular boring lesson, her eyebrows would furrow and she'd bite her lip, staring out the window with hate evident in her eyes as lightning struck somewhere nearby. Harry and Hermione called it her brooding look. Ron called it her constipated look, but she smacked him so hard after she heard that he didn't crack jokes at her expense ever again.

Meanwhile, back in the empty girls' dormitory, Shiloh burst into tears and sank on the bed, putting her head in between her knees, her dark hair covering her face as she sobbed.

It wasn't fair at all- if _they _had to lead two entirely different lives, if _their _dad was the God of Lightning, if _their _mom died only two months ago, they'd be the ones crying, not her. For a second, Shiloh had a sickeningly dark thought. Her mom was alive, Ron's mom was dead, her dad was just a normal guy, Hermione's dad was an insane lunatic.

_DAMN YOU, SHILOH! _Lightning crackled in the room, and Shiloh mentally punched herself for being such a jackass. _It's not _their _fault you have a hard-ass life, _she told herself, and gradually the lightning faded away.

Shiloh reached down into her pocket and retrieved a sharp piece of shattered mirror and stared into her own eyes. To one, it might seem vain, but it reminded her of a pale storm. Dark emotion flickered like lightning in her bluish gray eyes, and she saw a fierce-looking girl with slightly long-ish black hair. She wasn't exactly pretty, but she loved how intimidating she looked- even in her own eyes. She had a small nose, plain lips and a stubborn chin. And even though her hair was probably the only thing she had in common with her mother, she saw her mom in the mirror.

_It's okay, _she seemed to be mouthing.


End file.
